


CTRL+Z

by Politzania



Series: Misc Prompts and Ficlets [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU - Non-Powered, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pop Culture, Tattoo Removal, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 07:48:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14208519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Politzania/pseuds/Politzania
Summary: Tony Stark is finally getting rid of the last reminder of a painful relationship.  James, the tattoo removal technician is both incredibly handsome and a fellow pop culture fan.  Tony finds himself wanting to spend more time with James than the brief sessions they have together.





	CTRL+Z

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tisfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/gifts).



> Written based on the prompt "Stamp" with the additional suggestion: _Tony (or Bucky) has a tattoo they got while drunk in an embarrassing location_

Tony set his phone down with a sigh of relief. He’d finally made the appointment. Despite the idea giving him the heebie jeebies, it would be worth it to have the last remnant of her removed from his life. Removed, not just inked over or reworked. While that probably was enough for some people, for him it would only be a further reminder of how deep a mark she’d stamped on his psyche. She’d gotten under his skin, in more ways than one. 

The waiting room was small, but comfortable. He’d checked reviews online and the technicians at this clinic were described as both professional and friendly. He hoped so; everything he’d read indicated he’d be back here anywhere from four to seven times over the next year or more. He’d done a lot of research; the more he knew up front, the more comfortable he felt. 

“Mr. Stark?” Tony looked up to see a handsome young man clad in burgundy scrubs standing in the doorway. “Please follow me.” He led Tony to a small consulting room. “My name is James and I’ll be working with you on your treatments. As I’m sure you were told on the phone, today is just an evaluation.” Tony nodded in agreement, not wanting to interrupt that smoky baritone. 

James flipped through the papers on his clipboard. “You do realize, Mr. Stark, that we follow all HIPAA regulations, and therefore cannot release any personal or medical information without your consent. This non-disclosure agreement you brought in is a bit redundant.” 

“You’d think so -- but then again, some people will say and do all sorts of things for the kind of money the tabloids are willing to wave around.” 

“I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with that,” James replied, a muscle in his finely sculpted jaw tightening, “but I promise that won’t be a problem here. It’s just the three of us: Natalia, Sam and me. And we all know how important privacy can be.” 

“I’m glad to hear that. But I’d still prefer that you sign the forms.” Just because Tony was allowing the guy to aim a laser at parts of his body didn’t mean he would extend that faith to other situations. He supposed it was another element of the legacy she had left him, the inability to trust anyone further than he could throw them. James scribbled his signature, then set the clipboard aside. 

“So, what exactly is the tattoo of and where is it located?” There was a hint of a smile playing around James’ lips, which Tony found surprisingly charming. “We get a lot of barbed wire and tribal ink in here, but that doesn’t quite seem your style.” 

This was the difficult part. Not so much the subject, as the location. He’d let her pick, as long as it was somewhere that would normally be covered by clothing. Tony’s father would have been livid if he’d known, and his mother never would have forgiven him. Being the romantic he was back then, he’d hoped she’d choose his chest, close to his heart. But no, she chose to mark her territory instead; it had made for awkward conversations with future bedmates. 

And it was just as awkward to stand up and lower his pants in front of a stranger. She’d chosen a spot an inch or below his hipbone, just above where his thigh began. Covered by just about any outfit he’d wear in public, so he couldn’t complain in that respect. Tony’s cheeks burned, but James seemed completely at ease, squatting down to take a closer look. 

“Huh - interesting. Where did you get this done?” 

“Mexico -- a quick weekend getaway. I’d had too much to drink and wanted to prove my love for my girl in the most romantic and permanent way possible. An image of her face would have taken too long, but just her name wasn’t enough. So I went with a grand gesture and got this instead.” 

James nodded thoughtfully “I take it she’s not in the picture anymore?” He might not be old enough to remember the tabloid coverage of the spectacular breakup; how the heir to Stark Industries had been snookered by an industrial spy, but James was sympathetic nonetheless. 

Tony tried very hard not to lose himself in the grey-blue eyes lifted to meet his. “No,” he replied, “Not for a very long time. She took a lot from me.” Not only had she’d used him to get confidential trade information, but she'd been his first lover. Once she got what she wanted, she'd discarded him like yesterday’s paper. In some ways the experience had turned him off women -- sure, he had a playboy reputation, but it was mostly smoke and mirrors. There were always attractive ladies willing to keep him company in public. Besides, Tony had always been attracted to men; even of it was only recently that he’d allowed himself to consider pursuing that interest beyond a discreet one night stand or two. 

“It’s just as well you waited.” Tony blinked in surprise, as if somehow James had read his mind. However, James went on to explain that laser removal technology had only recently shown consistent success rates at removing red and orange pigments. “Especially if cadmium sulfide or cinnabar was used. I don’t suppose they mentioned what pigments were in the ink?” 

“I was drunk and just turned twenty. Even if I could remember, I don’t imagine they’d waste quality stuff on a gringo who just walked in to their shop, waving some cash around.” 

James chuckled. “Probably not. But most shops aren’t like that anymore. For example, my pal Steve won’t touch a needle to your skin until you’ve met with him at least twice. He usually insists that his clients get a henna version of their design first. He even made me do it.” 

“Really? I’m surprised someone who works in tattoo removal actually has ink.” 

James smiled, but there was a tightness around his eyes. “A lot of us do, actually. Mine cover up some pretty nasty scars.” Obviously a touchy subject, so Tony steered the discussion back to his own tattoo. 

“So, how many treatments do you think this piece of questionable art will need?” 

“Let’s plan on four for now. You know that we need to wait several weeks between each treatment, right?” 

“So I’ve heard. As with so many other things in life, acting in haste results in repenting at leisure.” 

James shrugged. “We all make mistakes. Can I go ahead and put you on the schedule, Mr. Stark?” 

“Sure. And seeing as I’m standing here with my pants around my knees, you might as well call me Tony.” 

 

Three days later, Tony was back at the clinic in a treatment room, clad only in briefs from the waist down. The jeans he’d been wearing were neatly folded on the counter next to a pair of knit shorts; James had warned him about wearing anything too close-fitting right after the procedure. He was shivering a bit, as much from anticipation as the cool air blowing out of the vent above his head. James smiled as he came in the room. The blue scrubs he had on complimented his eyes, something that Tony found himself wanting to do as well. 

“Ready, Mr... I mean, Tony?” 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” 

“This won’t take long. Today’s session will focus on the outlines, since they’re the darkest.” He picked up a jar from the counter. “This is a combination anesthetic and antibiotic cream. If you could lay back, please?” 

Tony kept his mind firmly focused on the thought that a laser would soon be pointed just an inch or two from his private parts in an effort to fend off the physical response to having a gorgeous man touch him in such an intimate place. Having just shaved the area that morning as part of the procedure prep didn’t help, as it only made the skin more sensitive. Thankfully, it was over in a matter of moments and the cooling effect of the cream also helped tamp down his libido. 

Tony had been a little disappointed when he actually saw the equipment; he’d imagined long tubes on articulated arms hanging from the ceiling like something out of a 1950’s sci fi film. And it simply switched on, instead of making a loud whump and ominous hum as it powered up. But he couldn’t resist making a clever comment as James picked up the stylus. “Do you expect me to talk, Goldfinger?” 

James chuckled as he completed the quote: “No. Mr. Bond. I expect you to die.” He started the procedure, which wasn’t as painful as Tony had feared; quick, sharp bursts, like getting spattered by hot welding sparks. “Doing okay up there?” 

“So far.” 

“Almost done.” Tony glanced down; James was focused closely on his task, but a few strands of hair had come loose from his manbun, and they curled enticingly down his cheek. A satisfied smile flashed across James’ face as he sat back up and set the stylus aside. “There we go. Give me just another moment or two.” He quickly applied a loose dressing over the area, then held out a hand to help Tony sit back up. 

“Thanks. So - what’s the after care?” 

“For the first several days, keep it bandaged with sterile gauze and protected with a thin layer of antibiotic or healing ointment, applied three times a day. After that, just keep it clean. Mild soap is fine, and pat the area dry, no rubbing.” 

Tony’s dirty mind couldn’t help but run with the double entendre, and before he could stop himself, he replied, “No rubbing, got it. It’s gonna be a long six weeks.” 

James grinned mischievously. “Well, now, that you can rub to your heart’s content. Might even help, what with increasing blood flow to the area, and raising endorphin levels--” he broke off suddenly, his face going red. “I’m sorry. That was really inappropriate. Forgot where I was for a moment.” 

Tony waved off James’ concern. “I’m not easily offended, at least in that way. After all, I started it. No harm, no foul, right?” Tony watched to see if James believed him before continuing. “Shall we go ahead and schedule our next appointment?” 

 

Tony followed James’ instructions (as well as his suggestion) over the next month and a half. It had seemed like a good idea at the time to get himself off right before their next session, so as to not have to struggle against his body’s reactions to being in close contact with such a hottie. Unfortunately, Tony’s brain decided to make James the star of that morning’s fantasy, and he wasn’t sure he was even going to be able to make eye contact with him after that.

Stark men are made of iron, Tony reminded himself as he followed James into the treatment room. Getting rid of the tattoo for once and for all was his only focus; James was just someone helping out along the way. Sure, he was friendly, but that was just to put his clients at ease, make sure there was positive word of mouth, the best kind of advertising. 

After examining the results of the first treatment, James commented, “You are a model patient, Tony. The ink is fading really well, and I don’t see any signs of scarring so far. If you’re feeling up to it, I can do another treatment on the outlines and then get started on the red and orange fills today. How about it?” 

“The sooner this thing is gone, the better. I trust your judgement.” 

“Then let’s get started.” After quickly applying the cream, James pulled the goggles down, hiding those gorgeous eyes from view before picking up the stylus. The pain ramped up when he changed to the second laser; Tony clenched his fists and mentally reviewed the diagrams of the latest project he was working on as a way to distract himself. 

“Yeah, I know, this sucks,” James commented, his sharp eyes having noticed Tony’s reaction. “Just think of how much worse it would be if we lived on Tatooine instead, with its binary star system.” 

“I get that reference! I knew I liked something about you, James.” 

“Only one thing?” James asked archly, but with a hint of humor in his tone. “Be careful what you say to someone holding a laser just inches from your manhood.” 

“Well, I was going to compliment your bedside manner, but so much for that, sunshine.” Tony regretted the nickname as soon as it slipped out, but James didn’t seem to notice. 

“I have to say, Tony, you are one of my more entertaining clients. Almost everyone else just grits their teeth and holds on for dear life.” 

“That’s what she said,” Tony quipped and James laughed out loud. 

“Damn, I walked right into that one! Tho it’s not exactly accurate.” The cryptic comment, along with the quirk on those plush lips got Tony’s attention, but he didn’t dare look as long as he would have liked. James finished up the session a few moments later and quickly bandaged the area. Tony was slipping his shorts back on when James scribbled something down on the back of a business card. 

“What’s this?” 

“Uh... it’s our on-call number." James said, with an odd pause. "Since I did a little more work than I usually would in a single session, I want to make sure you can get a hold of someone in case there’s any complications. Not that I’m expecting any problems,” he added hastily, “but, you know, just in case.” 

 

It had been just over a week since his last treatment. Tony tapped James' card against his lips, trying to decide if he should call. He had a legitimate reason -- James had said to watch for the area getting red, puffy or tender and it was a bit of all three. Tony was sure both Sam and Natalia would be just as helpful and reassuring; despite having only spoken with them briefly on his way in and out of the office. However, Tony also knew who he really wanted to talk to. He took a deep breath and dialed the number. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it, Steve!” James snarled into the phone. “ It’s not like I would have a chance with ‘im anyways. Just drop it, okay?” 

“Whoa! Not Steve! Don’t hang up! Not Steve!” Tony yelled out before James could hang up. He recognized that tone of voice, and the emotions behind it; having lashed out at his own well-meaning friend on more than one occasion. And had he heard James right, referring to having a chance with a ‘him’? Or was that just his hopeful imagination? 

“Wait ... who is this? Tony?” James asked. 

“Yeah. Sorry. Sounds like I caught you at a bad time.” He should just hang up and call the office in the morning, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him. 

“No, no, it’s okay. Shoulda checked the display first. What do you need?” 

The question was brisk and businesslike, and more loaded than James had any idea of, Tony thought darkly. “Well, you said to let you know if the treatment area started getting inflamed. It kinda is.” 

“Did it blister or scab over?” 

“Yeah, but those fell off yesterday.” 

“Was the area subject to any out of the ordinary friction or ... um, skin to skin contact?” James sounded oddly shy as he asked what Tony thought was a very reasonable question. 

“You mean sex? Nope -- having quite the dry spell lately.” Tony answered lightly. 

“The ladies of New York are getting derelict in their duties,” James joked back. 

“Not really -- more along the lines of me not being interested in cheap, meaningless one night stands.” Tony admitted. He wasn’t all that interested in ladies anymore, for that matter, but he wasn’t ready to admit that out loud. 

“Been there, done that, not worth it,” James commiserated. “Anyways, so what exactly is going on with the soon-to-be-ex tattoo? Does it feel hot to the touch? Are there any darker streaks of red?” 

“Not really any warmer than the surrounding skin, and no dark streaks. But it is awfully tender.”

“Hmm. Probably getting irritated by clothing and normal friction from just moving around. I’d recommend taking a day or so off work and letting it breathe. Wear something loose, or if possible, nothing at all over it. Is that something that you can do?” 

“I’ll schedule a couple of work from home days and teleconference in,” Tony replied. Pepper would help him organize everything. “After all, no one needs to know what I’m not wearing under the desk, right?” 

“Well, that’s quite the mental image, there, Tony.” James’ laugh was warm and somehow intimate. “Sounds like a good compromise. But if it’s still bothering you this much after a day or so, please come in and I’ll take a look at it.” 

“Will do. Thanks for your help, James.” 

“Bucky. My friends call me Bucky.” 

 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Stark. I’m afraid James is not available. I can provide the treatment today, or if you prefer to reschedule?” Natalia’s Eastern European accent was just prominent enough to be a pleasure to listen to, even if she did have bad news. Tony had been looking forward to seeing Bucky again, especially since their phone call had perhaps established a certain level of friendship between them. 

“Unfortunately, I’m going to be travelling for work starting tomorrow through the middle of next week,” Tony replied, “so yes, if you can fit me in, that would be outstanding.” 

She took a few moments to read through the file, her eyebrows knitting at one point. “James should not have combined treatments this way. Too much stimulation.” Tony repressed a smirk at the unintentional innuendo. “But you are healing well, yes?” 

“Uh, yeah, though I did call your after-hours line when it got a little irritated. James’ recommendation got me all fixed up.” 

Natalia tilted her head and gave him a curious look. “We do not have an after-hours line.” 

Tony was confused. “But he said--” 

“James says many things,” she interrupted. “And other things he does not speak of at all. But let us get started. The outlines are gone now, yes? So we have just the colors left.” She made an impatient motion, and Tony took off his shorts and reclined in the treatment chair. 

Natalia inspected the area closely, making small humming noises. “You have good skin for this; barely any scarring at all. And James has clearly taken his time with you. Let us begin.” She applied the cream briskly, and the next thing Tony knew, she was wielding the laser stylus. James generally waited a few minutes inbetween the two steps, saying the anesthetic needed a few minutes to work. But Tony didn’t notice any appreciable difference in the pain level. 

“We are done for today,” Natalia said only a few minutes later. “Perform the usual after-care and we shall see you again in six weeks. Or, perhaps if you have problems again, you will call after hours.” The slight, knowing slant of her smile left Tony wondering at the situation. Had Bucky actually given him his personal number? And if so, what did that mean? Only one way to find out.

 

“H’lo?” Bucky mumbled. He sounded awful; congested and half-asleep. Tony should have waited a day or two, but patience was never one of his virtues. 

“Hi, um, it’s Tony. I wanted to see--” 

“Oh, shit. Meant to have ‘Talia call you, let you know I was sick. ‘M sorry.” 

“No worries -- she squeezed me into her schedule and zapped me good. Makes you look like Florence Nightingale in comparison.” 

“She’s efficient, gotta give her that,” Bucky chuckled. 

“She also told me your office doesn’t have an after-hours on-call line.” 

“Ah, did she.” There was silence on the line. Tony decided to go with his hunch and pressed ahead. The worst that could happen was that Bucky would send him to Sam or Natalia for his last treatments; he was too professional to cancel completely. 

“So, maybe after my next session, we can go out for a drink afterward? That is, if you know somewhere with a casual dress code. You know, because of the sweat pants and all.” 

The silence continued for a moment before Bucky said, “Maybe the cold medicine is making me hallucinate, but it sounded like you just asked me out.” 

“I did.” Tony confirmed. His heart was nearly beating out of his chest. Had he misread the situation?

“I didn’t think you leaned that way.” Bucky sounded a little confused, but a little hopeful as well, so Tony pressed his advantage.

“It’s not common knowledge, but yeah. Speaking of which, am I barking up the wrong tree?” 

“No. No, you’re not.” Tony could hear the smile in Bucky’s voice. So far, so good.

“So, how about that drink, handsome?” 

“How about we not wait?” 

\------------------------------

 

“You are such a geek, darlin,” Bucky said, tracing a finger over the two linked fullerenes Steve had marked in henna on Tony’s chest. “You know, this complex of a design is going to take quite a while. I’m not sure you can sit still for that long.”

“Guess you’re gonna have to tire me out good first,” Tony teased. Lovemaking was something Bucky excelled at, but was only part of what made their relationship the best thing that had happened to Tony in a very long time. Nearly a year had passed since his first visit to the clinic, and they'd made the most of it, even after the tabloids had snooped them out. 

“You sure you want to do this?” Bucky looked up into Tony’s eyes, his question about more than just Tony getting a tattoo. Seeing how happy Sam and Natalia had looked at their wedding just the week before had perhaps gotten some wheels turning in Bucky’s mind as well. Tony suspected it was only a matter of time before his beloved proposed ... that is, if he didn’t get there first. 

“Never been more sure of anything in my life, sunshine.” Tony bent down to claim a kiss. “But I still can’t believe what your first choice for the location was. How could you have subjected your tragically straight best friend to the sight of my ass crack, anyways?” 

“Where else would a pair of buckyballs go?”


End file.
